The Magical Creek
by Caz251
Summary: Summary: Merlin’s thoughts on the creek near Camelot where he can be free. Slash. Arthur/Merlin. Written for story lottery. Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, no matter how much I wish it were so.


**Title:** The Magical Creek  
**Author:** caz251  
**Fandom: **Merlin  
**Characters:** Arthur and Merlin, mentions of Uther Pendragon  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Prompt:** 23 story_lottery a creek  
**Summary:** Merlin's thoughts on the creek near Camelot where he can be free.

**Warnings:** Slash  
**Word Count:** 1003  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Merlin, no matter how much I wish it were so.

When he had first arrived in Camelot it had just been a creek to him, a beautiful creek, but a creek all the same. In time though, that changed, the longer he spent in Camelot the more the creek came to mean to him. It was when he first became Arthur's manservant that the creek began to change for him. It became a place of rest for him, a place of tranquillity where he could think calmly despite the orders that he was given while there. They used the creek as a resting point when Arthur went out on a hunt, it was a place where their mounts could take a rest and have a drink, but never him. Even so Merlin enjoyed the time he spent there, readying things for the continuation of their journey.

The creek wasn't too far from Camelot, but it was far enough that they used it as a place to camp on the way back to the castle after a long hunt. Merlin hated when Arthur went out for sport, he always felt so useless, and Arthur always made sure to tell him that he was. Carrying Arthur's belongings on his horse was something he could do, he wasn't so good at hunting or fighting, he really wasn't someone that anyone would want watching their back, something Arthur pointed out to him many times. But even though he always had orders to carry out there, there was something calming about the area that allowed him to relax, at times he would even think that it could be magical.

He himself always felt better after a drink from the creek, and he was sure that Arthur although he would never admit it felt calm and relaxed at the creek, otherwise he would have found somewhere else to camp long ago. It was dangerous for them to camp there all the time, anyone could find out that it was the Prince's preferred campsite and have a trap laid in waiting for him. They had never changed camp though always using the area by the creek to rest, and it made Merlin wonder at times if there was more to the creek. Surely there was more to Arthur's decision not to change camps than the familiarity of the surroundings and the advantage they'd have over any attackers due to their knowledge of the area.

There was something about the creek that called to the young Prince, just as it called to him, but he knew that he could never ask Arthur about it as that would mean he'd have to explain that the a creek called to him. The creek called to his magic, something he could never tell the son of Uther Pendragon, it would be an automatic death penalty, but from what he had observed the creek called to Arthur's soul. Arthur could be Arthur at the little creek, he had no worries they seemed to flow away from him, following the path of the water, cleansing him in a way. Merlin could always tell after they had spent time at the creek that Arthur was a little lighter, he didn't have as many troubles. He wasn't sure if it was the creek taken his burdens as her own or if it was as a result of not having to be the Crown Prince of Camelot there. At the creek on his way back to Camelot he had no real duties unless something happened, he could spend time relaxing and bossing Merlin around, something that he always enjoyed.

Sometimes they had guards with them, others it was just them, and Merlin soon came to realise that he preferred it when it was just the two of them. None of the guards saw the creek as they did, to them it was just a source of water, but Merlin thought differently and he was sure that Arthur felt the same. Arthur began to spend more and more time just riding out to the creek with only Merlin to accompany him, it was one of those times that Merlin thought that everything was over. They had been sat at the side of the creek talking, the more time they spent together on these trips the closer they became, when a group tried to ambush them. Arthur had been prepared to fight back and Merlin was going to do everything he could to aid him and save their lives, even if it meant exposing himself to Arthur.

Neither of them were needed to defend themselves however as the men found that neither they nor their weapons could enter within a 2 metre radius of Arthur or Merlin. When the men tried they found that they were repelled by a blast of water that through them back. The men had scarpered soon after, leaving both Merlin and Arthur confused as to what had happened. Merlin had a better idea than Arthur, knowing more about magic and its uses than the Prince. He had been shocked when Arthur had ordered him not to mention what had happened, telling him that his father would probably kill him himself if he knew that magic had saved him. Arthur had realised that the magic of the land itself, because Camelot was a land of magic, had risen up to save its Prince.

Merlin was surprised at the lack of anger or resistance Arthur showed at the display of magic, and had found out over time that he had no real problems with magic itself, rather the intention of the caster. Merlin had even gone as far as revealing his own magic to the Prince on one of their trips to the creek, something that the Prince had taken in his stride. A smile crossed Merlin's face as he watched Arthur bathe in the creek, the creek had given them a lot; protection, the ability to share their secrets, friendship and most of all love. He stood removing his clothing before joining his lover in the creek.


End file.
